Utopia
by Greasy Slimeballs
Summary: [one shot] Either I fall into the treacherous pit and bestow him as my knight and lover, or I do the very thing that my heart tells me to do: once again find that true friendship that shouldn’t even exist in a normal planet like this but a utopia.


**Title: Utopia**

**Rating: K**

**Genre: Drama/Spiritual**

**Summary: Either I fall into the treacherous pit and bestow him as my knight, my protector, my lover, or I do the very thing that my heart tells me to do: once again find that true friendship that shouldn't even exist in a normal planet like this but a utopia. **

**Utopia**

Sixteen and young, I didn't know anything. Only love entered my mind when I first met Phil. The supposed one. Reading romance story after story, friends falling in utter bliss with their other friend, living a happy ending; that fit my description, and I immediately became fixated on the idea of Phil becoming my true love. After all, what better way to fall in love than loving your best friend?

I told myself I loved him, that I needed him. I believed myself; he believed me too. One clammy, hot day, I dipped my toe into the water, feelings its coolness. Fully satisfied with the water's temperature, I went dunzo, an old word my grandfather told me, into the water. The rush, the feeling, the water's coolness – all this felt exhilarating. Just like love, the feeling that burst in my stomach every time I saw _him_; the feeling that made me go ankles over heels; the feeling that made my lips dry and carry a Chapstick tube just in case; the feeling that made me rocket toward Pluto and float back down on cloud seven.

I described these powerful feelings as love – I don't even know if I could describe it as a feeling because it seemed so powerful. The feelings that felt similar to the romance books that told you when you were in love.

It pains me today when I remember those negligent, reckless days, when everything seemed so cinema-ish, like I based my life on some sappy love comedy. Every time I visually see him today, in my mind, I retch at the thought that I actually convinced myself these feelings seemed real and genuine. Like a pearl, a rare beauty, something you can never find anywhere else.

The only thing rare and genuine was our platonic love, our _rare_ platonic love.

Why the whole world conspired getting him and me together, I still don't know today. I still have missing pieces that need finding or recreated, so I can complete this thousand piece puzzle. (I'm still searching for those exact pieces today.) Maybe it's the sheer idea of falling in love with your best male friend that fascinates people, including me; maybe it's because they don't have enough love in their own lives that they meddle with others. (Note in future, never meddle with a friend's love life. I tried it once and stopped after Via told me it only hurts a person even more because one, it's degrading, and two, they can do it on their own – despite how slow they are.) We told people, "Stop! Can't you see? We're only friends!"

They didn't listen; we ignored them. We didn't need any proof, not whatsoever, to show the world that we didn't need their help. We had our own lives and our own lover. But they still heckled and insisted that we needed just one date, one kiss, one moment to figure ourselves out.

Tired of their incessant ramblings, we listened to them, listened to their foolish sayings, foolish advices, foolish schemes – everything that we strongly went against for many, many months. So we repeated the process all over – and let me tell, it was misery – and we repeated our mistakes. (Oh, how it makes my hair curl and coil as I write this.)

I'd like to say we showed them, showed them that we didn't need each other to have eternal happiness. But that's propaganda; the bitter truth makes me want to lie, but I won't because I've given my promise to him. So, I'm telling you now that we never showed the world our sheer proof that we tried desperately for them to understand. They told everyone that we finally relented and fell in love, but what we really did was fall into a dark pit of their evil, dark schemes.

Anyway, back to that one hot, clammy day – the one where I dove into the pool. The one where I took a dip of reality.

I swam until I couldn't swim any more. And so I sat on the pool's ledge, my feet making patterns in the water. Suddenly, the pool created ripples because my body shook, or more like someone shook me and caused the ripples.

The first thing he said that day shocked me but makes me laugh today. _I don't need you._

_Excuse me_, a person might ask! But I'm not that dense, not that unaware to philosophy.

_I don't need you either_, I returned.

He left that instant and so **again** started our genuine friendship, not the one that started when I was young and reckless, when I didn't know that friendship and love are two different things and aren't meant to be mixed together. Only friendship and love bring unhappiness, infidelity, and deceit. Sort of like mixing purple and orange together; both classify as secondary colors and can't mix together without revealing a hideous brownish-black color.

Either I fall into the treacherous pit and bestow him as my knight, my protector, my lover, or I do the very thing that my heart tells me to do: once again find that true friendship that shouldn't even exist in a normal planet like this but a utopia.

I didn't need him and his romantic interest; I needed him and his utopian love.

So I picked the second choice, and once again my fifteen year old heart beat rapidly, fully aware that I had my life back.

They say I made a mistake, but what do they know; I know I made the right choice: staying his best friend through the thick and thin, through the lies and deceit, through the well chosen choices and the poor choices. I know he might go back to the future, or he might stay in the present. I know that he'll marry someone that's not me, he'll make new friends, and he'll have a family that doesn't include me. But that's okay because I've learned that friendship contains the word 'ship' in it. As long as a friendship holds, you are assured that friends will break apart and come back together again, making choices that you don't approve of or that you regret. A friendship goes in different direction, just like a ship on a blustering windy day. But that's okay because I know our friendship will survive.

Our friendship is a utopia – it's only meant for people who believe in dreams and, well, are cynical. Our friendship doesn't deserve this normal world but something more spectacular. Our friendship didn't deserve romance but only the raw best: understanding, commitment, the list goes on.

So I close this letter, my daughter. I only hope you strive and see that you can make the same choice as I did.

And for Phil, he's gone, all the way back to the future, which might be a very good oxymoron to add to my list. But I know he's not a figment of my imagination, even though some people say he is, because I've experienced the finest and the best gift that can't be put in a box and wrapped up in paper. That's Phil. He gave me life back; he gave me the knowledge and endurance to let him go; he gave me you spiritually.

He's the one who lives deep in my soul and makes me live everyday. He's somewhere, and you'll meet him, maybe in the distant future. Maybe I'll meet him sometime. Maybe in a dream or utopia because that's where our friendship exists. A utopia.

**Oh, please. I couldn't stand Fan Fiction in today's forums. There's only one good one shot I've read! So don't come back with a review saying, "PHEELY FOREVER, you evil dirtbag!"**

**Review kindly please. **


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